


Mates

by noblydonedonnanoble



Category: Doctor Who RPF
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-04-04
Updated: 2012-04-04
Packaged: 2017-11-03 01:09:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 2,576
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/375401
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/noblydonedonnanoble/pseuds/noblydonedonnanoble
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"There was nothing romantic about it. Sure, if you had asked me, I would have said that she was beautiful. But I always looked at her as my best friend."</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

When we met on Doctor Who, we were mates. That’s what we wanted in each other, mates. And that’s really what we became—we called each other up most nights, just to chat. Once we finished filming and went our separate ways, we talked on the phone even more often, sometimes for hours at a time. And believe me, we covered pretty much every subject in the book—although I always made a conscious effort to avoid touchy subjects, and I’m sure she probably did too.

There was nothing romantic about it. Sure, if you had asked me, I would have said that she was beautiful. But I always looked at her as my best friend.

I think maybe once, someone asked me about us, someone who wasn’t on tv just asking a scripted question that we had already prepped for. I laughed it off.

But then came Much Ado About Nothing. Both of us were thrilled to be working together again. I marveled at how perfect her portrayal of Beatrice was, and she insisted I was a much better Benedick than she could ever be Beatrice.

We were mates. We still chatted on the phone for hours. We sat around in the theatre through lunch and dinner breaks, running through lines until our stomachs screamed and insisted that nourishment might be a good idea.

The first time we kissed in rehearsal, we were very professional on stage, only to laugh together as soon as we were by ourselves because even though we had to do it for Doctor Who, it was not to the same extent. Beatrice and Benedick were in love, but like us, the Doctor and Donna were mates.

And then in my mind we weren’t mates anymore. I started looking at her through some pair of eyes that clearly was not my own. Through all of her teasing, through all of our phone calls that went on past midnight… Somewhere along the way I fell in love. Each performance, each teasing glance between Benedick and Beatrice, through each kiss they shared, for each time our audience watched them fall in love, they were unknowingly also watching me, as I fell harder and harder.

She didn’t notice. Every night when I joined her in her dressing room after the show, talking to her about everything under the sun, she didn’t notice, and I kept it that way.

Once, someone asked me about us, someone who wasn’t on tv just asking a scripted question that we had already prepped for. I stumbled over my words slightly as I reassured them that our stage chemistry was simply that—for the stage.

All the while, I counted down performances, watching as the summer ticked by and we got closer and closer to closing night. Maybe, I thought, maybe once we stopped working together, stopped flirting every night, stopped kissing every night, I would forget. Because honestly, I had no idea if I was falling in love with her, or with Beatrice. As much as I wanted to know, deep down I was scared to find out.


	2. Chapter 2

Before working together, I had a crush on him. For the first couple of days on Doctor Who, every time he talked to me about something not in regards to our characters, I found myself stammering and muttering. I had trouble looking him in the eyes.

I pulled it together for my character, and I pulled it together quickly enough for real, too. I remembered the energetic, fearless woman that I am and threw out the nervous fan that I had somehow turned into. He didn’t seem to notice, or if he did, he didn’t say anything. He just laughed with me as we lounged around set together. I forgot about that crush completely.

Once I came back as a full-time companion, it was even better. We became real mates, just like our characters. We called each other up during our free time, just because I missed him or he missed me. Sometimes I phoned him up only to find out he’d been about to call me, or vice versa.

We went our separate ways, and if possible I think we became even closer with the distance, because we phoned each other even more often, had even longer conversations.

By the time we were standing side-by-side for the first time on the Much Ado About Nothing stage, he was quite possibly my best mate. He was the perfect Benedick; I’m not the only person who told him so, but I think I’m the one who realized how true it was. He told me I was a brilliant Beatrice, but I strongly believed that is Benedick was far better than my Beatrice could ever be.

We were mates. We memorized our lines more quickly than any of the rest of the cast, simply because we were almost constantly running our scenes together. We went to dinner almost every night, and one of us always insisted on paying the whole bill. At practice the next day, if he had paid I would always sneak into his coat and leave a 20 pound note in the pocket, only to get it back the next day. We started drawing little pictures on it and random messages, because we knew it would never be spent anyway.

The first time we kissed in rehearsal, I was somehow able to wait until we could take a moment alone to giggle about it. He was my best mate… Kissing him the way Donna would kiss the Doctor was one thing, but kissing him the way Beatrice would kiss Benedick felt absurd.

And then it stopped feeling absurd. I lived for those moments on stage with him, moments where I flirted with him and could eye him all I wanted, where I got to kiss him every night. If I started acting differently, he didn’t notice, or he didn’t comment. With each performance, I fell more in love with him.

Every night after the show, he would lounge around in my dressing room and talk my ear off. He didn’t know that each night was a struggle for me. As much as I loved being on stage with him, the Beatrice to his Benedick, when we were one-on-one and not in character, I had to hide the love in my eyes. Sometimes he made jokes that made me want to throw caution to the wind and kiss him harder than Beatrice ever could have managed, but I never did.


	3. Chapter 3

A week before closing night, Catherine and David went out for a late dinner after the show, as usual. It was Catherine’s turn to pay, but David made a big show of protesting anyway. They spent a few moments pulling the check away from one another before, exasperated, Catherine picked it up and held it quite close before discreetly slipping her credit card inside and flagging down the waiter before David could do anything about it.

They stayed out late, drinking and laughing.

David arrived at the theatre early the next day. Catherine always arrived at precisely the same time, and he had their twenty in his pocket, just waiting for him to casually place somewhere in her dressing room where she would notice it, but hopefully not immediately.

Someone from stage crew passed by as he let himself into the dressing room, but didn’t bother to say anything—David practically lived there while he was at the theatre. Most likely, some people thought the two of them did some very provocative things in there, and neither David nor Catherine had ever bothered to set the record straight.

David closed the door behind him, and without a second thought dropped onto the worn, slightly sagging couch sitting near the door. It was his spot of choice, and from there he examined the whole room thoughtfully as he considered his options. There was a vase sitting on the table that contained some flowers her mother had brought for her a few days before, and after a moment he hoisted himself up and strode across the room to it.

He lifted it up with the intention of putting the note underneath it, sticking out just enough that she would spot it, but probably not until the next day or even later. Except there was already a piece of paper underneath it, folded so many times that he was astonished that the vase had not perched crookedly on top of it.

Quite hesitantly, David replaced the paper with the twenty, and shoved it into his pocket without reading it. He was curious, but Catherine was due to arrive any minute so he would simply have to take it to his own dressing room to peruse later. He let himself out of the room.

He forgot to turn the lights off.

~~

While that small piece of paper sat in David’s coat pocket, unread, Catherine was panicking. As soon as she entered her room and saw the lights on, she knew David had been there. As soon as she saw the twenty sticking out from under the vase, she knew he had found that paper.

She paced back and forth across the room. She could go and talk to him, ask him why he took it. There was the possibility, of course, that he had not read what she had written, in which case maybe she could get it from him before he did. But if she seemed concerned about it, he might be even more curious. And if he had already read it, she was nervous about where their conversation might go.

In the end, Catherine did nothing. She prepared for the show as usual, and pulled herself together for her character. After all, she couldn’t let down Benedick.

Toward the end of the performance, once Benedick and Beatrice had kissed and moved out of the limelight, she took a moment to lean up toward his hear and whisper to him, “David, did you take something from my room?”

After a moment, comprehension dawned on his face. “Yes. Sorry, I allowed my curiosity to get the best of me. I haven’t looked at it, if it makes you feel any better.”

He didn’t miss the look of relief that she allowed to show for a few moments. “Okay. Could I maybe have it back?”

“Of course.”

David returned it to her that night in her dressing room. She didn’t notice that each fold had a newer crease, slightly off from those previously in place.

They didn’t go to dinner that night, and instead bade each other farewell on the street outside the theatre, David making sure that she got a cab alright before wandering down the street in search of a bar where he could get horribly drunk.

Catherine pulled the paper out of her pocket as soon as she was out of David’s sight, unfolding it with care. She only scanned the first few sentences. I wish I didn’t love him. We’re mates, and this is such an unnecessary complication. I want to finish this show. I don’t want the show to ever end.

She sighed and leaned her head back, crumpling it up and stuffing it in her purse.


	4. Chapter 4

The rest of the week passed relatively normally. David fidgeted through their dinners, but if Catherine noticed, she didn’t say. The two of them stopped exchanging the twenty pound note and it sat at the bottom of Catherine’s purse, becoming increasingly crumpled with each passing day.

Before you could even blink, it was Saturday and David and Catherine were in their dressing rooms, putting on their costumes for the last time. Usually David would find Catherine in her room before the show, and together they would talk to get their minds clear. This time, though, David was knocking on Tom Bateman’s door.

When Tom opened the door, he looked understandably puzzled. Anyone on the cast could have told you that David was defying his routine.

“David, what are you doing here?”

“I have something for you. I need you to make sure that this is the paper that Claudio and the prince give to Beatrice in tonight’s show.” He tucked a folded scrap of paper into Tom’s hand.

Tom eyed David. “Is this something that’s going to screw up her performance? Are you sure this was the best night for that?”

“No!” David exclaimed this slightly louder than necessary, and Tom raised his eyebrows. David lowered his voice again. “It’s just a joke. You know Catherine—she’ll cope like a champ. I’ll just have to deal with her punching me as soon as we’re off-stage.”

For a moment, it looked like Tom was going to say no. But he shrugged and said, “Alright. If this kills our show, it’s all your fault.”

David grinned at Tom before strolling away toward Catherine’s dressing room. As soon as he was out of sight, Tom unfolded the paper and looked it over. “Interesting joke,” he murmured.

~~~

The performance was arguably the best of the whole run. Backstage, before heading out to do the wedding scene, David stood at Catherine’s side and took her hand, squeezing tightly. “Dinner?”

She squeezed back. “Always.”

David was having trouble standing still. He bounced repeatedly from one foot to the other and back again. When Catherine looked at him strangely, he simply shrugged and said, “I only just realized it’s almost over.”

Immediately before the cast filtered on stage to find their seats for the wedding, David whispered, “Be genuine out there, Catherine. Do what Beatrice would do.”

She tried to catch his eye and give him a puzzled look but he was already out in the open.

They sat. Hero and Claudio were reunited. Benedick proposed to Beatrice only for both of them to insist that they didn’t have feelings for one another.

Claudio and Hero handed Beatrice and Benedick small slips of paper. Out of the corner of his eye, Benedick watched for her reaction. She scoffed, as usual, and together they crumpled up the pages and threw them aside.

If looks could kill, he would have exploded and splattered across the walls. Catherine made sure David noticed a difference in Beatrice and Benedick’s kiss.

She pulled him closer than ever before.

Toward the end of the performance, once Benedick and Beatrice had kissed and moved out of the limelight, David took a moment to lean down and whisper into her ear, “So, dinner?”

“You read it.”

“Don’t tell me you’re going to say no now. You’ve already agreed and everything. I’ve booked a reservation.”

“You’re an ass.”

“You love me.”

“You love me.”

“I’ve considered the possibility.”

“You’re an ass.”

David smiled before whispering, “I don’t think it’s possible to love somebody as much as I love you. Beatrice and Benedick would be so lucky.”

Catherine elbowed him harder than necessary, but for those last minutes of their performance, neither Catherine nor David stopped beaming.

~~~

They ate out. It was David’s turn to pay, but he was twenty pounds short.

Catherine dug down to the bottom of her purse and pulled out their twenty, sliding it toward him.

He raised his eyebrows, questioning.

She shrugged. “Who needs that when I’ve got you?”

They took the same cab, Catherine resting her head on David’s shoulder.

“I love you,” he whispered into her hair.

“You’re an ass.”

“You love me in spite of it.”

“I love you because of it.”


End file.
